Apex Book Company

Instead of conducting a formal interview, we decided to let the fans at Jennifer. We hope you enjoy our first fan-based Q&A!

Jennifer;

A great deal of your stories in Unwelcome Bodies deal with the extremes of disease or natural disasters. What draws your fascination to these subjects?

In “The Last Stand of the Elephant Man” there is a great deal of emphasis on humanity’s attraction to morbid sights. Is this a commentary or reflection of your own interests in the horror culture?

Thank you,

Brandon Layng

I’ve always been fascinated by all the ways that things can go wrong with the human body, and for the life of me, I don’t know why. I still remember reading and re-reading a book my aunt had on historical circus freaks when I was a kid. It was filled with pictures of Siamese twins, people with extra legs, no legs, scaly skin, fur, parasitic twins…you name it. And I also somehow became fascinated with paralysis at a young age as well. I remember reading The Other Side of the Mountain (a story of a teenager who becomes quadriplegic in a skiing accident) when I was pretty young with a combination of horror and fascination. I’d try to prepare myself for all kinds of horrible accidents, just in case. I tried to learn sign language in case I went deaf, I tried to learn Braille in case I went blind, I tried to learn to write left-handed in case something awful happened to my right hand like Johnny Tremain, and I despaired when I failed at each, because I was convinced it would come back to haunt me. I honestly can’t tell you why I developed these weird fears and fascinations, but they’ve been there as long as I can remember.

As for natural disasters, what could be more scary than the planet trying to kill you?

And I do think human beings are attracted to the grotesque. The fact that people used to be able to make a decent living as traveling freaks attests to that, as do the tamely-named “curiosity delays” on
href=”http://apexbookcompany.papermountain.org/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/ub.jpg”>the highway nowadays. We flock to the Internet to see celebrity plastic surgery gone wrong, we go to YouTube to watch the clip of Budd Dwyer shooting himself in the head, we forward around the picture of the snake that ate an alligator and then burst open. Human beings like to be shocked. So when I write, I often find myself thinking about what people will find shocking in the future, because clearly, that’s a moving target. We become inured to shock through exposure. Think of how shocking Alice Cooper was when he first came out. In the age of Marilyn Manson, he became quaint. Cute, even. And now Manson isn’t even that big a deal. Figuring out future shocks — or things that will no longer be shocking in the future — is an interesting exercise for me.

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Not trying to over-emphasize Brandon’s question, I think Unwelcome Bodies was aptly named, and the overall theme does seem to be a certain “uncomfortable-ness” from which they stem and that they generate, but is it central to your writing, a phase, or a one-time thing?

Plus, are you working or thinking of doing a lengthier work?

Thanks,
n.fonseca

Well, bodies are bizarre and annoying things. We can never make them look or behave exactly how we want them to, but we’re surrounded by images of people who have succeeded where we have failed. And even their bodies will eventually fail them, due to age, disease, accidents, or neglect. Plus, being raised Catholic didn’t exactly help me have a happy relationship with my body. So I suspect there’ll be more body-centric work in my future. Really, what’s more personal and fraught with issues than a person’s relationship with their own body?

As for longer works, I have tried my hands at novels, but I haven’t yet managed to interest an agent in any of them. I’m currently writing my third, and maybe this one will be the charm.

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Jennifer,

1. You’ve said that “Captive Girl” would be a completely different story if the main characters were male and female instead of both female. (And yes, you are very right.) Do you feel that some topics are easier, or less inflammatory to explore through minority characters?

That’s an interesting way of putting it. I’ve tended to look at my characters in terms of their place in the power hierarchy, or to put it another way, what the superficial cultural expectation about them might be. Two women have a different power relationship together than a woman and a man, or two men. A lower-class character and an upper-class character have a fairly specific set of societally-defined dynamics when relating to each other. People look at Mexican immigrants differently than they do German immigrants. A black person who speaks like an educated white person gets treated differently than a black person who “sounds black.” So these are the kinds of things I try to think about when figuring out who the best characters for my story will be.

2. What’s been your “highest” moment as a writer so far?

I’d have to say the Nebula nomination. I had a whole host of mixed emotions around it, but man, to be able to forever say that I’m a Nebula nominee is pretty damned cool.

3. When are we going to see a story about a belly dancer? :)

Oh, you will. Trust me. I’m just still trying to figure out the perfect plot for her. I’ve got my setting, and I think I have my character, but the plot continues to elude me.

4. There’s usually so much in your stories that people often come away saying it’s about different things. Has anyone seen something in your stories that surprised you?

I think when my stories are misread, that’s the most surprising. Someone recently said that “Big Sister/Little Sister” was about Siamese twins. Well, not really, but whatever. And I’d been unaware at just how much I wrote about bodies until Teresa Nielsen Hayden came up with the title of the collection for me. Even then, I just thought it was a cool title until the reviews started rolling in, and many of them commented on how perfect the title was given the theme of all the stories. But I think what’s surprised me most has been Jason’s reactions to stories I’ve sold to other markets. I apparently have no clue when I’ve written something that he’d buy, because I often find myself thinking, “Oh, this isn’t an Apex story” and then get an email from Jason after someone else publishes it saying that he would have bought it in a heartbeat.

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What was your inspiration for “YY?” Was it a challenge maintaining such a hight level of intensity throughout the story?

~Brian

The inspiration was a nightmare I had. The little echoing voices in the basement, with the last one coming from right behind the door, the little kid sitting curled-up on the floor by the basement door — that’s straight out of a dream (although in the dream, there were two kids, and they were the little boys from The Boondocks). Then I got the theme for Aegri Somnia and tried to figure out what story I could tell with those little guys that would work for the anthology. As for the intensity, I had a really difficult time with it, especially at the end. I’m not exactly an action writer, so figuring out how to make the fight scene at the end not sound like a laundry list of action items was extremely difficult. Keeping the piece relatively short helped, I think. And being able to break away to flashbacks also helped, because those bits let me build an entirely different kind of tension. I haven’t tried to write another story like it since, which probably tells you something!

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Your stories, to me, seem much more driven by theme and human emotion/condition than typical spec fic. When imagining a new tale… What usually comes first for you? The “WHAT IF” and fun of the spec goodies (I know you’re kinda twisted), or the challenge of exploring a new theme/emotion? (ie: “The girl in the tub” — was it simply the physical image of the girl that got the Pelland wheels rolling, or was it the what-is-REALLY-going-on-HERE factor?) Thanks, Jenn!

It’s really varied, but usually, the “what if” comes first, although not always. Sometimes, like for “Last Bus” or “YY,” I’m playing with a dream snippet and trying to figure out what happens around it. Sometimes I get a flash of a character, like for “Captive Girl” or “Brushstrokes,” and need to figure out what their story is. Rarely do I get a complete package, alas. And sometimes, I’ll mash two seemingly unrelated bits together, like a character I’ve been playing with, and a “what if?” I’ve been playing with, and realize that I’ve got something pretty good on my hands.

And I still owe you that girl in the tub story, I know! I started writing it, and then I realized that I still hadn’t figured out why I was writing about that particular day in her life, so it stalled. Maybe I should mash her against another aborted story idea and see if I get any sparks.

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Jennifer - You do the horror/sci-fi mix so beautifully in your work. What’s your background in writing (or life) that you believe gives you this uncommon and wonderful ability to find the perfect balance?

Fabulous collection!

What’s next for you?

–Fran

Thank you! I have no idea what’s wrong with my brain, to be honest. I didn’t have a particularly traumatic childhood, and haven’t lived a particularly interesting life, so I’m not quite sure where these stories are coming from. I mean, sure, I had my share of childhood misery, but nothing that necessitated therapy. I suspect the combination of my overly-literal mind, combined with Catholic paranoia, combined with night terrors, combined with spending several years of my childhood as the school scapegoat probably was all it took. Although if it were that simple, there’d be a lot more people writing the same kind of stuff as me, because I’m sure that’s a really common story. Maybe I’m a closet sadist or something, because I really seem to enjoy doing terrible things to imaginary people.

The science fiction part is easily traceable, though. My father was a fan of both literary and media science fiction, so I was raised on the stuff. We’d watch science fiction movies and TV together, and I started reading his books earlier than I probably should have. I suspect most people wouldn’t recommend handing Harlan Ellison to a ten-year-old.

As for what’s next, more of the same, unless I can convince an agent to take me on as a client. Then more of the same, only longer!

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Hi Jennifer,
Yours are some of the most disturbing stories I’ve ever read. I commend you for them. I’m particularly amazed by your understanding of illness, both mental and physical. I seldom see that in able-bodied people from Western cultures: we have these lenses through which we see the world, and only the sane, young, and beautiful qualify for observation. Still, you write horror, so there’s a need to horrify and dramatize disease and insanity. Have you ever written a story about these themes without turning it into horror? (ie: just dealing with the facts and the way people usually deal with them).

I’ve noticed that in most of your stories the horror comes from the way people deal with their disabilities–unhealthily. In real life, disabled people cope a lot better. Is horror the cross between catastrophe and a psyche accustomed to living in a perfect world? Are we handicapped in some way, us who confuse “normal” and “standard” with “young, healthy and sane?” Isn’t it a lot healthier to realize that real life is seldom “normal?”

Thanks!

You raise a really good point about how I’ve used disability issues in stories. I’m not sure that I’ve ever published a story where someone’s disability wasn’t used for fairly horrible dramatic purposes. Well, unless you count being intersexed as a disability, which I don’t. There’s an intersexed character in “Mercytanks” who comes from a society where it’s shunned (in other words, our society), but her father is trying to make a life for her that doesn’t involve mutilation. But you’re right, I should consider finding a way to write a disabled protagonist into a story without it being a point of horror. Of course, the challenge is finding a way to make that work in a speculative fiction piece. The future of disabilities is a tough one to predict.

Still, when you think about it, becoming disabled is a horror story. I can’t think of many real-life cases of people who’ve become disabled and taken it well right from the start. And it’s a real fear that many able-bodied people have lurking at the back of their brains. So the temptation to play with it is natural.

One thing I was careful to do for “The Last Stand of the Elephant Man” was talk to a friend of mine who’s been growing more disabled with age. I wanted to understand what that was like, both in terms of acceptance and of frustration and the vacillation between the two. So often, we’re presented with the image of “the noble cripple,” and I didn’t want to fall into that trap. My friend seemed pleased with the resulting story.

And I’m with you on the futility of “normal.” The only way to tell if you have a normal life is to see how bored you are. If the answer is “very,” then congratulations! You’re normal!

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So hey, I will exercise my BigBorg authority and ask a question as well.

What has been your favorite reaction to your fiction? Are you a fan of David Cronenberg? There’s a thematic similarity between your stories and his films.

Jason S.

I’d say that my favorite reaction to date is hearing from a blind reader who told me that I’d nailed the ethical complications of a caretaker/disabled client relationship perfectly in “Captive Girl.” Considering that I did no research on that particular angle at all, I was very gratified to learn that I hadn’t mucked it up. Plus, I’m always a little nervous when I try to write someone else’s experience (the disabled, the non-white, the non-traditionally-gendered, etc.), so it’s always a relief to be told that I’ve gotten it right.

As for David Cronenberg, nope, I’m a wimp. I can’t watch horror films. They freak me out too badly, and then I can’t sleep for weeks, or go in my attic, or go in my basement, or swim in a lake, or eat ice cream, or…oh, you get the point. In fact, I’m enough of a wimp that I probably couldn’t read some of my creepier stories if I hadn’t written them.

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Jen, one of the things I’ve wondered about your writing is why so much of it is so dark. I know others have asked you about this before, but do you think there is any deep-seated reason why you’re drawn to those themes?

Michael A. Burstein

I’m not sure I can answer that without getting Freudian. I mean, I had the same generic childhood nerd trauma that most of us went through, the same weird Catholic body issues that a lot of us (not you, obviously) went through, the same weird habit of reading things that I was way too young for that a lot of us had… I don’t know. I don’t think I’m that dark in person. Sarcastic, sure, and a hell of a pessimist when things aren’t going well, but not dark. Maybe I just take the writing adage of “a character gets into trouble and struggles to overcome it” a little more literally than most folks. I do sometimes get lighter story ideas, but I often have a difficult time writing them, because I’m just not sure how to pace a positive story, or how to put my characters through trouble without putting them through the wringer. So maybe I simply write dark stories because I’m lousy at writing happy ones. I really couldn’t say. I hope this doesn’t come across as a dismissive answer. I’m really struggling to come up with something meaningful to say here, and failing miserably.

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Was Big Sister/Little Sister inspired by any true events?

Mari Adkins

Funny you should ask that. See this birthmark on my stomach? See how it wriggles when I poke it? Well, it’s actually–

No, it wasn’t ;)

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I’ll ask another question (or ten) for this Q&A…

If you had been to write it as a male and female in “Captive Girl,” how would you have executed it? Would it still have been Captive “Girl?” Or did the idea ever occur about a captive man? Do you find that idea would have been more predictable (man and captive girl)?

How easily does writing come to you? I know you mentioned years as a fanfic writer, but does the actual writing come easily, or is it more challenging? Do you have ideas that crop up, you write half the story and then pass them over, or does every idea develop fully first and become a finished story? Do you find you like stories that are harder to write (take that anyway you want, either as content or style, etc) or the ones that seem to go from mind to paper with ease?

Thanks again, Jennifer!

Hmm. If I’d written “Captive Girl” with a man and a woman, that would have been tricky. If Marika had been a man, then people would have immediately read him as a predator. It would have been exceedingly difficult to write him so that people would give his devotion to Alice the benefit of the doubt. In fact, it would have been difficult enough that I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have pulled it off. If Marika had stayed a woman, and Alice had been a man, then people would have been cheering him on for having landed an older woman. And if they’d both been men, then I would have had to deal with the bogeyman of the “gay man as pedophile” (which is crap, but it’s a prevailing fear in our culture). Plus, having Alice be a man would have meant giving Alice a penis, which, to be frank, would have meant much more complicated seat plumbing, which would have given the reader more of a chance to step back and go, “Yeah, I’m not buying this.” Having one or both of them be men would have also changed the emotional dynamic. I don’t know if I could have made the story work with one or both of them being men. But maybe a stronger writer could have.

And writing is alternately easyish and difficult. Actually, writing isn’t so much difficult as inspiring myself to write is. I don’t know what it is about making myself sit down to write, but I’m terrible at it. Beyond that, every story’s different. Some come out quickly, some take two years. “Blood Baby” and “Mercytanks” are both two-year stories. I wrote them, had people look at them, couldn’t figure out how to fix them, put them aside for a year, poked at them again, gave up, put them aside for another year, and finally figured out how to make them work. Meanwhile, “Captive Girl” came out pretty quickly, as did “Erasure” and “Dazz.” “Firebird” originally started out as an entirely different story in my head, but after thinking about it for months and realizing that the protagonist was the roommate, it took its final shape pretty quickly. It’s a real mix. I’ve been trying to make myself write faster, and I’m not sure how well that’s working. I’ve sold a few of these quickly-written stories, but I haven’t produced anything weighty with that method yet.

The ease or difficulty of a story tends to have nothing to do with how much I like it when it’s done. The stories I’m happiest with are the ones that seem to carry a great emotional weight — “Captive Girl,” “The Last Stand of the Elephant Man,” “Brushstrokes.” They feel meaningful to me, and I’m always surprised when I re-read them, because I can’t for the life of me figure out how I pulled them off. Which is annoying, because I’d really like to write something that meaningful again!

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Jennifer Pelland is a Waltham, MA based writer of dark science fiction and fantasy. Her work has been nominated for the Nebula and Gaylactic Spectrum awards. In 2008, her first collection of stories, Unwelcome Bodies, was published by Apex Book Company.

Unwelcome Bodies is available through the Apex Store or via the Apex aStore(Amazon).